advertisement

Blogs

It's been a fantastic Fall so far in British Columbia, Canada, where I dwell. It's nice and sunny and has made me smile. And now it is pouring rain. And I like rain, the sound of it hitting my skylights, but I do not like the slow change in my mood that never seems to forget about me each year. And each year, I am somehow surprised that Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) has slowly inched its way into my life---again-- and each year, my mood seems to fall along with the leaves.
I know I feel it, the cantankerous anxiety that seeps into my soul when I watch the news. How with every murder report, every bomb, every child drowning, every political mudsling; my faith in the future shrivels up a bit. My helplessness fills to the brim. So what is the answer? Not watch it? Avoid all negativity? Pretend it doesn't exist? No.
Tackling the negative behaviors that do not improve your self-esteem helps you shift your perspective. You can examine negative beliefs about yourself and make changes to negative behaviors that keep you down (How Negative Thinking Kills Your Self-Confidence). That means putting in the work to change negative behaviors and thoughts to improve your self-esteem over the long-haul.
For reasons we might want to explore at some other time, I spent over 30 years toiling in the corporate vineyards as an advertising copywriter – an occupation which enjoys a level of social prestige roughly equivalent to that of garbage collector, lawyer, and snake oil salesman – although to be sure – the latter group is begrudgingly afforded a modicum of respect since almost everyone abhors a squeaky snake. I know I do. But I digress. Writers, as you know, are a disreputable lot. As a rule they live in culverts, subsist on scraps of food left by others in greasy spoon diners on the outskirts of town, frequently showing up for work with three day’s of stubble, pockets crammed with losing lottery tickets, reeking of bourbon and cheap cigars. The men are even worse! As a bipolar dipsomaniac with a chronic attitude problem that includes contempt for authority, you can imagine I lost and found and lost employers the way others misplace car keys. Some jobs were submerged deep within the bowels of soulless corporations shamelessly exploiting the witless populace, while others resided in neurosis factories referred to as advertising agencies where paranoia, throat-slitting, and British wardrobes were passed off as creativity.
I received an email from a client last week; he was very upset. Usually, he's the kind of guy who likes to travel on the drop of a dime but since PTSD began to control his life, he’s noticed that traveling takes an enormous toll on him. After even the smallest trip, he wrote, "I have to sleep all the next day. Is this part of the PTSD profile?" In a word: Yes.
S.
Once a person receives a mental health diagnosis, the mental health recovery process can be long and difficult. Often, when people see a "healthy-looking" person that has a mental health diagnosis, they aren't aware of the actual timeline of the person's recovery. I know, for many individuals such as myself, it takes years to become a fully functional and a thriving individual again.
Last night, I decided I wanted to get sober. Since I've been drinking heavily the past few days and have had DTs in the past, I went to my treatment team's hospital and told them I was afraid to sober up in an outpatient setting. The crisis counselor and I talked for a while, then she told me they didn't have inpatient treatment for alcohol and drugs. She gave me a one-page list of places that offer substance abuse treatment and sent me home. Dual diagnosis treatment, at least in Indiana, is hard to find. And that makes a difficult situation almost impossible.
“I won’t go to rehab. I said no, no, no!” Amy Winehouse This refrain has been spoken by many an addict for years.  What is it about inpatient drug and alcohol rehabilitation that is so bad anyway?  I mean, you’ve got three meals, a roof over your head, and the companionship of other addicts, all of whom are dealing with similar (but not the same) issues that you have.  Who could want more?
This week is Mental Illness Awareness Week in Canada. (Mental Illness Awareness Week in the U.S. starts next week. Why the two countries couldn’t get together on this I’ll never know.) And in honour of this week, I thought I would feature the Mental Illness Awareness Week’s campaign – the Faces of Mental Illness. The Faces of Mental Illness Focuses on real people with real mental illnesses who have faced the worst and still found recovery. If you’re looking for some hope, these are the people who will give it to you.
Picture this: A moment ago I was staring at the blank text field going "Ummm...Uhhh...Dammit!" And then I was coughing a rather nasty cough that lives deep inside my chest and scratches my throat. I slowly move my hand toward cough drops which have proved to be generally useless. I have a headache and realize the Tylenol is downstairs. I wonder if I can make it downstairs. A box of tissues sit beside me where my notebooks usually are. I look up "how long does a cold last?" Apparently, seven to ten days. I am on day three. The website recommends chicken soup. I hate soup. I then type in, fingers moving rather slowly: "depression related to the common cold" although this does not feel common --I think I might be dying. But I am sort of dramatic with these things... I'm done telling about how crappy I feel (insert sneeze here) but I have always felt I suffer from depression when I am sick. Am I alone in this?

Follow Us

advertisement

Most Popular

Comments

Bella
Hi, Kayla. What is the first step that I need to do in order to stop biting myself and creating alarming bruises that I can't explain, or don't want to explain?
Bella
Is biting yourself till the point of where you get severely bruised, considered self-harm, or no?
Amy
I ate Healthy Choice Beef Merlot tonight. I did not even think about the fact it had Merlot in it!
I haven't had a drink in 9 years and two months.
I Googled everything on the subject and have come to the conclusion it is not a relapse.
However, I am going to read labels more carefully!
Tali
I look forward to being unconscious for 4-6 hours every night (if I'm lucky). I don't dream. It's the only relief I have. I used to enjoy video games, but my husband hated me playing them so I gave them up. I had my own business but my husband told me I had to stop, so I did. He walks out on me whenever I don't do what he wants. He's allowed to have hobbies and I better not complain, just take care of the kids. My whole life had to be given up because it suits him and I've become nothing more than a maid and a babysitter. I love my kids but I just don't think I can take him finding some new thing to take away every September when he starts ignoring all of us because of the fair he acts in every year that time. He straight out told me this year he loves fair more than me. I don't have anything left to try for, I'm not a young lady anymore. I don't want to die, but I don't want to live...live...survive anymore. I doubt what I've been doing can be qualified as living. Thing is the rest of the year he's good to us. But somehow it's always me, I'm the problem, he just turns it around. Always carry on, carried on before, like a machine. This time I don't have it in me. I swear if he says one more time to me if doesn't get to do one of his many hobbies he'll get depressed and kill himself I'm just going to lose it. He doesn't care what I've been carrying these past 12 years. Doubt he noticed. He didn't notice when he left for fair with me fresh out of abdominal surgery to take care of a newborn, 1 year old, and 3 kids under 10. Apparently it interfered with him so much he was annoyed with me for not being fully healed from it after only one week. Not sure who told him people heal from major surgery in a week, but whatever. I doubt he even notices unless it inconveniences him, but he'll only get mad if it does. I wish I had some helpful or inspiring words, but I don't. I'm just existing with no reason anymore. I had reasons before, but they don't make sense anymore. I want to cry, but even that is too much effort.
Roxie S. Mitchell
Exactly what I needed to read right now. After all, I've grown up being abused and then screamed at for crying afterwards, so this article is very insightful because it helps us realize that crying is actually a normal part of being a human. Thank you for this!